


Firebird

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: FrostIron - Freeform, M/M, Olympics AU, figure skating AU, i never really say it but steve is loki's coach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-14 16:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1273981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki Laufeyson and Tony Stark are rivals going into the Olympics, both determined to be the champion. They've only ever been competitors to each other, but that changes when Tony sees Loki practice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

To the press, this is what Tony Stark said about Loki Laufeyson: “We all want a medal, but I think I can win it. This is my last season and I’m going out with a bang. And we all know what happened to Laufeyson at the last Olympics.” 

This is what Loki Laufeyson said about Tony Stark: “I’m shocked that he’s insisting he can still compete.” 

It was two weeks until the Winter Olympics. 

**

Tony Stark had been competing for the United States for over a decade. He’d been to the last two Olympics—this would be his third—and had yet to win gold. But he had won bronze and silver, and that wasn’t the best but it was something. 

Loki was his rival. It was a bit of an uncommon rivalry, as Loki competed for Norway, so he and Tony only met at international competitions. Loki was also younger than Tony, having only been to one Olympics (this would be his second.) Yet, over the past few years they’d found themselves neck-and-neck whenever they both competed. 

But Loki had fallen in his free skate at the last Olympics. He got fourth, and Tony got silver. 

Most skaters would’ve retired by now, but Tony wanted gold. He wanted to be able to say that he was an Olympic Champion. He was already famous as a skater. But he wanted to prove that he was just more than a snarky personality. The problem was, there were others that probably wanted it more than him. 

Loki had issues with nerves. Tony was confident. Loki was also tall, which made his jumps harder to accomplish (even if he did always manage to look very elegant.) Tony was shorter, which helped him on the ice. Loki tended to skate on the edge of chaos, and graceful though he was, it also sometimes seemed like he was only a second away from falling. Tony skated with precision, concentrating on his jumps and spins, with almost none of the artistry Loki seemed to prize. 

Off the ice, Tony had a huge media personality. Loki was a bit of a mystery. He didn’t talk about how he got into skating, or his past, or his personal life. Tony talked about all these things. Possibly more than people wanted to hear him talk about them. 

This was how they were going to the Olympics. 

**

The first thing Tony noticed about the Olympic village was that it had a lovely view of the sea. The second thing he noticed was that he’d forgotten how insulated it made him feel. He saw so many people he knew during the first few hours that he began to regret not trying to stay elsewhere. 

Still, he let the feeling wash over him, allowed himself to move on. He made his way to the rink to practice, and as he was walking through the halls he passed a few journalists talking to a skater. He had to take a look. 

It was Loki. Of course it was Loki. 

Loki looked just as tall as he ever had, something that would’ve pissed Tony off (he hated being short sometimes) had it not been a disadvantage in their sport. He also looked a bit too pale, his cheekbones more prominent than they had been in recent years. Loki was thin, always had been, but he was beginning to resemble a stick figure. 

He also caught Tony staring, his eyes flickering up past the journalists to catch Tony’s gaze. And then he smirked and looked back at the journalists and answered their questions a bit louder than was necessary. 

Tony realized that he couldn’t understand what Loki was saying because Loki was speaking Russian. Of course Loki knew how to speak Russian. Tony could only speak French aside from English, and that hadn’t proven very useful so far. 

He spun around and speed-walked towards the rink, trying to ignore the feeling of nervousness that came over him, the thought that this time Loki just might win. 

**

For rivals, Tony and Loki didn’t exchange many words. They talked about each other through other people, and it was probably better that way. Tony wanted to punch Loki in the face most of the time, so it was good they didn’t get to act out their rivalry in person very often. 

Some rivals practiced together, cultivating a “healthy rivalry.” Tony and Loki weren’t like that. They practiced on opposite sides of the world. Tony didn’t share his coach with other skaters. So far it had worked for him. 

The second day, he arrived at the rink just as Loki was finishing. 

Tony had already put on his skates, had donned his warm-up gear, and there was nothing left for him to do but sit and wait for Loki to get off the ice. 

And, truth be told, he was curious. 

Loki didn’t know he had a rival in the audience. His coach, a sandy-haired man who didn’t look much older than Tony himself, was watching as Loki, clad only in black covering him from neck to skates, glided around the ice. 

Tony watched. Loki jumped and landed a quad, and then went into a spin combination. He was ridiculously flexible, and Tony felt a pang of jealousy. There were some positions Loki could spin in that very few people could. Tony had tried, but there were some positions that were out of his reach no matter what he did. 

Loki went into a footwork sequence that guaranteed to get him a lot of points, something intricate and fast and chaotic-looking, something that could easily be messed up if Loki wasn’t giving it his full concentration. Then another jump—triple axel, and another jump, and another—

Loki fell on that third jump and slid into the boards. 

“I think we’re good for today,” his coach said. American. Tony had been surprised that Loki would’ve chosen someone not from Europe. 

Loki pulled himself up using the boards as support and turned to glare at his coach. “Again,” he said. 

“You don’t want to hurt yourself,” his coach said. 

Loki opened his mouth to protest, but his eyes moved from his coach’s face to Tony’s, and Tony briefly thought, “Oh, shit” as Loki pushed himself away from the boards and skated towards him. 

“Are you actually taking my advice?” the coach said when Loki reached him. Tony still hadn’t moved, and Loki was still looking at him. 

“It seems our time is up,” Loki said. “But I will get it right tomorrow.” For a moment his gaze returned to his coach, steely and determined. “For the moment, I must have a talk with a certain individual.” Loki’s eyes flitted back to Tony and narrowed, and his coach looked around to see what Loki was staring at. Tony gave him a little wave and the coach nodded before turning back to Loki and telling him something that Tony couldn’t here. 

Loki nodded and stepped off the ice, and Tony still didn’t move, and Loki walked towards him and grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the corridor just outside the changing rooms. 

It took Tony a moment to realize what was happening, and he yanked his arm out of Loki’s grip. Loki glared at him and snapped, “What are you doing, Stark?” 

“I was scheduled to practice,” Tony said, “but someone seemed to be taking up my precious time by wiping the ice with their ass.” 

“As you were planning to do just now?” Loki said. “How is that quad going, by the way?” 

Tony had been having difficulty with that jump. But he smiled. “Perfectly, unlike your triple combination.” 

Loki sneered at him. “Right. You’re an old washout hoping for one last chance at glory, but you won’t get it. You should have done yourself a favor and given someone with more potential a chance. Then your country might have actually had a chance at a medal.” 

“My country does have a chance,” Tony said, his smile now plastered on his face, “unlike yours. Or do I have to remind you who medaled last time and who didn’t?” 

“I’m not who I was back then,” Loki said, and that sounded ominous. 

“No, you’re probably worse,” Tony said. “People don’t have faith in you. You didn’t deliver last time. They don’t think you have a chance in hell this time. Even the judges don’t like you.” 

Loki’s eyes narrowed. Judges were his worst point of contention. One time he’d been quoted in the press as saying, “I’m not their puppet,” which had sparked a lot of trouble for him. Loki was known for being prickly to anyone but those closest to him. Right now, however, he looked like he wanted to punch Tony, which was worse than his usual stand-offish nature. 

“Stark!” Nick Fury, Tony’s coach, called down the hallway. “Get your ass out here!” 

“Victory calls,” Tony said, and he moved past Loki and sauntered down the hall before Loki could make good on that threatening look he was giving him. 

As Tony warmed up on the ice, he tried not to think about how Loki’s program, before he’d fallen, looked absolutely spectacular. 

If he could pull it off.

And Tony didn’t want that. He worked himself ragged during practice trying to get the quad right. Because he wasn’t going to hand a medal over to Loki. If Loki wanted to win, he’d have to compete. And Tony meant to give him the competition of a lifetime.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four days until the competition.

After two grueling days of practice, Tony wanted a drink. He wanted several drinks. He wanted many drinks, and his competition wasn’t for another four days, and the Russian figure skaters were throwing a party. Tony knew one of them, Natasha Romanov. She invited him and Tony decided to give the party a go. 

Seeing the competition in a party setting was weird, because even though it wasn’t a competition, it was hard to just relax and have fun. Tony hated being around the Russian skaters because they seemed to have infinite amounts of talent with minimal effort. He knew that wasn’t true—they trained really, really hard—but somehow their training seemed to always be going better. 

Natasha introduced him to some of the other female skaters from various countries and Tony knocked back a few drinks and started to feel himself relax a bit. He had a healthy buzz, one that was putting an easy smile on his face and keeping it there, and he started seeing everyone around him as people and not athletes to compare himself to. 

Which was nice, because when Tony paused to compare himself to other skaters everything went downhill fast. It was much easier to pretend these were friends, and this was a normal weekend night, and they weren’t all tense because of the possibility of a moment of a lifetime being lived out in front of the whole world was happening in four days.

He settled himself on one of the couches next to Natasha when he felt a long-fingered hand on his shoulder, and someone leaning against the couch. And then he heard that person speak and felt his stomach sink. 

“Natasha,” Loki was saying, sounding much more pleasant than he had with Tony earlier. “It’s been too long.” 

“Three days,” Natasha said, and then to Tony, “we train together,” as if she had no idea who they were to each other. “I didn’t know you were coming.” 

“You told me to relax,” Loki said, and there was a slur. Tony felt a tiny bit of relief. If Loki was drunk, this wouldn’t be half as bad as it should’ve been. If they were both drunk—

“Did Stark tell you,” Loki drawled, “that he was spying on my practice the other day?” 

“I was waiting,” Tony corrected. “You were running over time.” 

Natasha looked between the two of them, a tiny smile on her face. “Did you like it?” she asked Tony. 

“What?” Tony said. He hadn’t been expecting that question. 

“Did you like it?” Natasha repeated, and now she was smirking. 

“I—um—couldn’t possibly comment,” Tony said. He wanted to leave, now. 

“You told me this was to relax,” Loki said, sharply. “How is talking about my practice relaxing?” 

“Sorry,” Natasha said, not looking sorry at all. “You brought it up.” 

Tony chanced a look at Loki, who blinked. “Yes,” he said after a moment, tongue darting out to wet his lips. There was a drink held precariously in the hand that wasn’t placed on the couch. “Well, I thought it was amusing.” He paused to think for a moment, taking a sip of his drink. “And suspicious.” 

“How are you finding Russia?” Natasha asked. 

“Cold,” Loki said, at the same time as Tony answered, “Good.” 

“I was hoping for a bit more,” Natasha said, “but I’ll let you off the hook because we’re all a bit distracted. But you should really look around.” 

“Yeah, I come by Russia all the time,” Tony said. 

“When you retire, then,” Natasha said. “And have some money. 

Loki scoffed. “No one in their right mind would give Stark money.” 

“Hey!” Tony twisted around to get a good look at Loki, who gave him a challenging look. “I get plenty of money from tours.” 

“But can you do anything else?” Loki wondered. 

“Can you?” Tony shot back. 

Natasha rolled her eyes and pushed herself off the couch. “I’m gonna mingle some more. You two relax.” She held Loki’s gaze as she said this.

“Yes, mom,” Tony said, and Natasha glared at him before striding away. 

Which left Tony and Loki alone. 

Tony finished what was left in his cup, knocking it back like a shot. When he looked up at Loki, he noticed that his cup was also empty, and that Loki was staring out at the rest of the room with an oddly detached expression on his face. 

Tony was about to say something, but Loki stood up and made his way towards the door. And Tony thought, this was the first time he and Loki weren’t at each others’ throats, and it might help to get inside his competitor’s head, and Natasha would not approve of Loki just leaving like that, and before he knew it Tony was following in Loki’s wake. 

They both exited into the sharp, cold air of the night, Tony slightly behind. Loki wasn’t walking particularly fast, but he’d had a head start, and Tony hurried to catch up. Loki must’ve noticed the sound of Tony’s feet smacking against the pavement—no one else was outside and any noise came from the buildings around them—because he turned around. 

“Hey,” Tony said, coming to a halt a few feet in front of him. “Why’re you leaving the party?” 

“Unlike certain people,” Loki said, clearly making an effort to sound sober, “I have practice tomorrow.” 

“I have practice tomorrow, too,” Tony said. “Doesn’t mean you can’t relax a bit. Isn’t that what Natasha told you?” 

“Natasha isn’t my coach,” Loki said. 

Tony stepped closer, and Loki didn’t back away. Part of this, Tony realized, was selfish. If he could break Loki’s concentration for a bit, get him off track, he could better his chances of winning. But another part was fascinated. This was his enemy, drunk, and not in the rink. This was new territory for both of them. 

Tony put a hand on Loki’s arm, and Loki let him. 

“Not everything has to be figure skating,” Tony said. 

“What else is there?” Loki asked, and Tony almost laughed except he realized that Loki was completely serious. 

“Life,” Tony said. 

“This is my life,” Loki said. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” 

Tony swallowed. It was a thought they all had and never really wanted to think about, how consuming it all was. “You’ll be done, eventually,” he said. 

“Is that so?” Loki asked him. “Then why are you still clinging to your career? What else is there for you?” 

That hit a bit too close to home. Tony let go of Loki’s arm. “Shut up,” he muttered. 

“It’s the truth,” Loki said. 

“You’re drunk,” Tony pointed out. 

“So are you,” Loki said. “And you actually think you can win. You don’t want to move on. You’re fooling yourself if you think you’re here because you’re good enough to win a medal at your age. You are hanging on to the glory of your memories, and nothing more.” 

Tony wanted to hit him. Loki smirked and turned away, but Tony grabbed him by the arm and snapped, “You’re fooling yourself if you think you can beat me. We’ve always been neck-and-neck, but who’s won when it counts? I’m still in the game, and you’re still struggling for that medal you’re never gonna win.” 

Loki’s smirk was replaced by a flash of anger, and he whirled around to face Tony. Tony had never seen Loki so worked up before, pale cheeks flushed in anger, eyes flashing. Usually Loki kept an infuriating mask of calm indifference, occasionally infused with a certain type of arrogance that made Tony want to punch him in the face. But now Loki looked like someone with real emotions, like when he skated except he wasn’t on ice. 

It was strangely attractive. 

And maybe that was the alcohol. Tony didn’t want to think of Loki like that. Loki was the competition. He should’ve stayed at the party. He should have—

Loki suddenly moved forward and grabbed Tony by the shoulders. “You—“ he started, a low hiss. 

Tony pressed his lips against Loki’s to shut him up. 

Loki gasped, and pulled away, staring at Tony with his lips parted and his cheeks still flushed and his eyes full of conflicting emotions, shock and fading anger and confusion all warring for a place. And then he surged forward, and kissed Tony back. 

Loki was an aggressive kisser, like he considered this a competition as well. Tony gave back as good as Loki gave him, and soon they were engaged in something far too passionate to merely be called kissing. Loki’s hands were running through his hair, Tony’s hands were on Loki’s hips, they were both gasping for breath, and then Tony realized a bit too late that he was attempting to pull off Loki’s shirt. 

Loki pulled away, took a step back, smoothed his hair and adjusted his shirt. He gave Tony a searching look, and Tony didn’t say anything because he was till trying to breathe. A moment passed, and then Loki’s lips twitched and he said, “Goodnight, Stark.” 

And walked away.

Tony stood in the cold, in the middle of the empty walkway watching him go. 

“Bastard,” he said. 

No one heard him.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony didn’t tell anyone about his strange encounter with Loki. He didn’t return to the party that night. He didn’t see Loki the next day. In fact, he didn’t see Loki until after the short program, and that was fine. He didn’t want to see Loki. He didn’t even want to think about Loki. 

The short program had gone extremely well. Tony was in first, Loki in third, and there was a very good chance that Tony could actually win these games. 

If the kiss had been a tactic on Loki’s part to distract Tony, which Tony suspected it was up until the short program, it had failed miserably. Tony filed the whole thing away under “things never to speak of again.” 

Still, he couldn’t help but think of the passion behind that kiss, the aggression. Loki had seemed to want to completely absorb himself in Tony, to escape in him, and maybe that was the alcohol. But then he’d just walked away, leaving Tony unsatisfied, leaving the whole thing unfinished. 

It was infuriating. 

He was walking past the Russian house in the village that night when he heard the sound of heated voices. He paused and hid behind one of the outer walls of the building, listening. 

“You need to calm down,” said the first voice, which Tony recognized as Natasha’s. 

“Let me go,” hissed a second voice. Loki’s. 

“No,” said Natasha. “You just finished a program. You need to eat and rest.” 

“Rest won’t get me a medal,” Loki said. “Whether or not you want me to, I intend to go to the rink and practice.” 

“Is that what you need?” Natasha asked. “You’re running yourself down. When was the last time you slept a full night? Ate a healthy amount of food? Skated only when your coach told you to and not a minute longer?” 

Silence. 

“Is that what you need?” Natasha repeated. 

“Yes,” Loki said, quietly. “I do. This is what I am. If I can’t prove to be the best at this, then what am I good for?” 

“Everyone wants to be at the top,” Natasha said, “but they can’t. You have to learn to be satisfied with doing your best, and not being the best.” 

“My family thought I was a failure,” Loki snapped. “Many who’ve seen me skate have said the same. No one expects me to win. I want to prove them wrong.” 

“I didn’t know your self-worth depended on other people,” Natasha said. 

“This is for myself,” Loki said. “Let me have this one thing.” 

“And if you don’t win?” Natasha asked. “What then?” 

Silence. 

“I’m concerned,” Natasha said. 

More silence. Then, “I’ve given too much of myself to this,” Loki said. “Everything I am is on that ice for all to see. I’m being judged for who I am. I shouldn’t have made it that way, but that’s how I skate best. I just need to make them see that I’m worth something.” 

“You’re an Olympian,” Natasha pointed out. “You are worth something.” 

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I fail,” Loki said, quietly. There was no emotion in his voice, and that sent a shiver down Tony’s spine. 

He clearly didn’t believe Natasha. The thing was, Tony understood. His parents never paid him attention as a kid, and as he got older, winning medals became the only way to prove to them that he was worth paying attention to. Not that it mattered, and eventually Tony stopped caring about them, and instead started winning for himself. Because he was the best, damn it, and it didn’t matter who thought so as long as he did. 

Loki clearly hadn’t reached that stage of not giving a fuck about other people yet. He hadn’t even considered it. It was possible that he couldn’t consider it, that there was a mental block there. 

In that moment, Tony felt sorry for him. 

“You’ll move on,” Natasha said. “Like we all do.” 

“Says the athlete who left a lasting mark upon her nation,” Loki muttered. 

Tony heard Natasha sigh, and then he heard Loki say, “I’ll see you later,” and then he realized that he had no idea which direction Loki was going to go, and before he’d made the decision to move or not Loki had rounded the corner and stopped dead. 

“Hey,” Tony said, but before he could get anything else out, Loki had crossed the distance between them in a few strides and pushed Tony against the wall. 

“What did you hear?” he hissed. 

“Hear what?” Tony managed. This close, Loki’s exhaustion was painfully obvious. It was something usually hidden on the ice. Judges didn’t want to see all the pain put into a single performance; they wanted the beauty and perfection. But here was the definition of pain standing in front of him. 

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “Stay away from me.” 

“If we’re being honest, I don’t need to,” Tony said. “You’re psyching yourself out.” 

“Am I?” Loki asked, his voice going dangerously low. 

“You’re a mess,” Tony said, his mouth betraying him even though his mind recognized that he should have stopped talking a long time ago. “That’s why you didn’t skate a perfect short. That’s why you kissed me back. What do you think any of this is gonna get you?” 

“You think I kissed you because I psyched myself out?” Loki asked. Then he laughed and shook his head. “I was drunk.” 

“Not drunk enough,” Tony said. “You were still thinking about skating.” 

“And what were you thinking about, Stark?” Loki asked. 

And that…was a very good question. Loki raised an eyebrow expectantly, all previous emotions gone and hidden behind the mask of a competitor who was a bit arrogant, who thought himself above Tony even though he didn’t always finish that way. It frustrated Tony, to see the person that was Loki slipping away, being replaced by the competitor that was Loki instead. 

“You looked good,” Tony said, just to get a rise out of him. Surprise flitted across Loki’s face for a moment, to be replaced with a distant coolness. “You actually weren’t being a dick. You seemed friendly, and like someone who talks to people, someone with real emotions. Like, I don’t know—like you are on the ice.” 

“You were drunk,” Loki said after a moment. “Imagining things that you wanted from me. Do you imagine these things often?” Lighthearted, but there was something underneath that…

“Like I think about you that much,” Tony said. “But, you know, I wasn’t that drunk. A bit, yeah, but you were being an actual person so—“ 

“I don’t need to be anyone to you,” Loki interrupted, “except for what the sport makes us out to be. If you don’t think about me, as you claim, then why mention the kiss?”

“It’s something people talk about,” Tony said, “when they do that.” He felt he was quickly losing ground. 

Loki smirked. “It meant nothing.” 

“You kissed me back,” Tony said. 

“I did,” Loki said. “I was drunk. I didn’t know I would leave such a lasting impression. Perhaps you don’t get kissed enough, Stark, if—“

“I get a lot more than kissed,” Tony cut him off. “But you—you need to relax. When’s the last time you got laid?” 

“Are you asking?” Loki said. 

Tony bit his tongue. He almost said, “Yes.” The pause was enough for Loki’s smirk to widen. “I’m saying you look a bit repressed,” he said instead. 

“I’m anything but,” Loki purred. 

Tony had a brilliant idea, which was to lean forward and kiss Loki on the lips. He pulled away. Loki stared at him, smirk gone, and Tony felt satisfied. “Could’ve fooled me,” he said, and then he turned and walked away, and didn’t bother looking back. 

**

“What do you think about Loki?” Tony asked Fury as he un-laced his skates after his final practice. He’d managed to one-up Loki, but somehow the satisfaction had faded into a burning curiosity. 

Fury gave Tony a side-glance and said, “I don’t give a damn about Laufeyson. Why?” 

“He’s competition,” Tony said. “I’ve been sizing him up. Thought you’d be doing the same. But it occurred to me that I don’t know anything about him except what’s on the ice.” 

“Let’s keep it that way,” Fury muttered. Then, he added, “Laufeyson’s coach says that he’s an emotional person, not that you’d know it from looking at him. And that he works hard. Like you.” 

“I was hoping for something more interesting,” Tony said. 

“I’m not a gossip magazine,” Fury snapped. “I think if you want to win gold you should be concentrating more on that combination you can’t land instead of Europe’s biggest diva on ice.” He swept past Tony and out of the locker room. 

Tony sighed and put his skates aside. “I did land it,” he muttered, but his thoughts were elsewhere. 

**

The free skate went well enough. 

Tony went into the performance looking to give the audience, and the judges, a last show. It was a final send-off, a celebration of the brash self-confidence he had gained over the years and the talent he had cultivated into something sharp as a knife, to the point where he owned the ice like he was born to it. It had taken years and pain and struggle but for those few moments, gliding across frozen water felt truly effortless. 

There was a stumble, and it put Tony into third place. Bronze. Not bad. Tony had wanted more, had wanted gold, but he found he was happy with bronze. A place on the podium, where he felt he belonged, was as good a place as any to end his career, even if it was third. 

Over the past few days, his need for gold had become less and less pressing. It seemed less important, now. It was his last Olympics, his last competition, and he had realized that, on a certain level, he would miss it. There was an end now that there had never been before, and suddenly going out on a note that would make him personally happy seemed much more important than gold. He wouldn’t let a placement ruin this. 

It may not have been the best performance the judges had seen that night, or the best Tony had ever done, but it was him, and for that he was proud of it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. I hope you've enjoyed it!

The free skate went well enough. 

Loki also stumbled, but managed to stumble in less of an obvious way than Tony, an almost graceful stumble. He put his heart into the performance. Tony watched, even though Fury told him not to (even though Loki skated after Tony) and was mesmerized. 

Loki skated across that rink like he was carving his life story into the ice, just on the edge of total precision and chaos, but more. That edge was blurred, and Loki made Tony feel like he was about to fall. Loki looked like he was on the edge of falling, falling on the ice, falling off the face of the Earth, falling away from himself and into some other world entirely. 

Loki didn’t fall. 

But he didn’t rise quite as high as he would’ve liked. 

They awarded him silver. 

Tony couldn’t exactly put it into words, but Loki had put his life story on the ice. That performance, in all of its teetering-on-the-edge glory, the chaos, the bursts of melancholy and the bursts of almost angry energy, all of it was Loki. Everything on the ice was everything Loki would never show to most of those people watching if he had to show it the way most people showed who they were and how they felt. But the ice was different to him. 

Tony and Loki stood on the podium during the medal ceremony, separated by the gold medalist. Tony caught a glimpse of Loki holding his medal up to the light, silver and glittery, a smile on his face that didn’t quite match the emotion of his eyes. But Tony couldn’t get a good read on him without looking like he was staring, and there were cameras everywhere, so he forced his gaze to the audience. 

Loki had given the performance of a lifetime, and Tony had never really watched him skate. And now that he had—Loki was beautiful. 

Maybe it was a combination of wanting to get the most out of these last days of competition, or maybe it was something lingering from being drunk the other night and feeling Loki’s lips against his, or maybe it was the loneliness that Tony had felt all these years because he literally had time for nothing else except his skates. Maybe it was Tony and maybe it was Loki and maybe it had nothing to do with all the years they’d spent deliberately not looking at each other during press conferences and sending dirty looks across the ice during pre-competition warm-ups. Or maybe it was all of it together. 

The ceremony ended and Tony had his medal and Fury looked, if not happy, then not disappointed, and Tony was whisked away to some journalists who wanted to hear a statement about his retirement and Tony obliged, but he didn’t really care. There would be time for statements later, and in the coming weeks he would do almost nothing but press. 

But now, it was the final night of his final Olympics, and he knew what he wanted to do. 

**

Loki was in his room. 

Tony only found that out after tracking down Natasha and managing to say some convincing words to her about the Olympics being a time of companionship, and that since the competition was over celebration was in order. Natasha had merely given him a knowing look that was a bit infuriating and sent him on his way. 

Tony knocked three times on the door before it opened.

Loki was there, in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans. He’d wiped the make-up off his face, so the bruised areas under his eyes were painfully obvious, as was the paleness of his skin. But, oddly, he didn’t look tired. 

“Stark,” he said, expressionless. 

“Congratulations,” Tony said. “You beat me when it mattered.” 

Loki’s lips twitched. “I’ve beaten you before.” 

Tony shrugged. “So, I thought maybe we could have a drink. Competition’s over. I still want to hang out with you, despite how rude you’ve been. Speaking of rude, are you gonna let me in?” 

Loki stepped back and opened the door wider, letting Tony step through. Their rooms were similar, with a living space and two beds and a small kitchenette and a bathroom. Loki closed the door behind them as Tony settled himself on one of the couches. 

“Who’s your roommate?” he asked. 

“I don’t have one,” Loki said. 

“Diva,” Tony muttered. 

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Says the man who is known for staying in hotels away from the rest of the athletes.” 

“It’s a matter of concentration,” Tony said, deliberately not thinking of how he almost didn’t stay in the Olympic Village. 

“Right,” Loki said. He strode into the kitchenette, took a bottle of vodka and two glasses, and set them down on the coffee table in front of Tony before sitting opposite him on the couch. “So are you here to prove that you weren’t just attempting to ruin my chances at a medal?” 

“No,” Tony said. “I’m here because I wanted to congratulate you.” 

Loki smirked. “You can’t be serious.” 

“I am. I’m retiring. Done. So it’s genuine. Congratulations.” 

Loki reached for the vodka and a glass and poured himself a generous serving. “The same to you,” he said. 

Tony poured himself a drink as well and for a few moments they both sat in silence. 

Then Loki said, “What do you plan to do now?” 

“Tour with some shows,” Tony said. “Maybe study something. I was actually pretty smart in school, but I couldn’t go to college. Too much of a time commitment.” 

Loki nodded. “It sounds nice.” 

“You should try it,” Tony said. 

Loki grimaced over a sip of his drink. “The competitive lifestyle suits me far more, I think.” 

“Really?” Tony said. “Because you look exhausted. Natasha was concerned about you. I don’t think it’s very healthy.” 

“If I can’t prove myself, then what is the point?” Loki asked. 

Tony put his drink down and leaned forward. “Tonight, on the ice, you gave the performance of your life. If it didn’t prove something to everyone, then it at least had to mean something to you. You were amazing, and that’s me being completely honest. I don’t compliment often.” 

“My best, and still not the best,” Loki said. 

“Yeah, by an arbitrary judgement from a bunch of anonymous people with a dubious scoring system,” Tony said.

“Those judgements are my career,” Loki said. 

“And what about you?” Tony asked. “You can’t tell me they’re all that matters, not when you skated like that. When that was your life out there. And don’t lie—I felt it. Everyone did, and you can’t make stuff like that up. Not a lot of skaters are capable of putting that much out there, and you did it. And I don’t see you putting yourself into anything else like that.” 

Loki placed his drink on the table and sighed. “If we were in the midst of the Games now, I would have thrown you out long before.” 

“It’s over,” Tony said. 

Loki nodded. “And you no longer have power over me.” 

“I don’t,” Tony said. “Not the competition anymore. There’s no rivalry.” 

Loki looked Tony in the eye, and his gaze was intense. And Tony couldn’t look away. “When I skate,” Loki said, “it is the only time I truly feel myself. And it matters. I wish it were otherwise, but that is me on the ice, stripped bare. It’s—“ Loki cut himself off, shook his head. 

“Beautiful,” Tony finished for him, and he leaned forward just enough to mark those words with a kiss. 

Loki kissed back, and soon they melting into each other, Tony’s warm body lending heat to Loki’s cold skin, until they were half-asleep on the couch, half-clothed, Loki’s head resting on Tony’s chest. 

And it felt right. 

Tony felt the weight of Loki’s body against his and his eyes felt heavy and he thought, this is what I wanted. This is enough. 

It was Tony Stark’s final night of competitive skating, and he was content. 

**

Loki woke up as the sun rose. 

Light came through the window, coloring Tony’s skin a lovely gold, lending highlights to his hair. Tony looked peaceful and completely happy, and for a moment Loki closed his eyes and allowed himself that same contentment. 

But his heart began to beat faster, and Loki opened his eyes. The light suddenly seemed too harsh, and he slowly pushed himself up and away from Tony and watched him for a moment with a bitter smile on his face. 

There was a moment where Loki considered rejoining Tony and falling asleep and allowing himself to drown in Tony’s contentment, but his mind was racing, and instead he got dressed, and packed what few things he had in a bag and placed his room key on the coffee table. 

“It isn’t enough ,” he murmured, glancing back at Tony one last time. 

Then he squared his shoulders and headed back for the ice. 

**

It was Tony Stark’s first day of retirement, and he woke up cold and confused and alone.


End file.
